Celebrations
by jansonpls
Summary: Immediately postNJO, there's a party. What are our heroes' thoughts?
1. Jaina

The celebration immediately after the Yuuzhan Vong war, or one of them

Originally I meant this to be from the point of view of a random stranger

Uh, that failed. I mean, it's me. What else can I write but... well, read and guess.

I don't own Star Wars, of course

So many people, laughing, chatting – relaxed and happy for the first time in almost five years. Snatches of conversation float towards me through the crowds, meandering their way to my senses among the music the band is playing. I can't pick out any individual words – it's impossible, so I don't even try.

I look round the huge hall, smiling at everyone, though they don't see me. The dance floor is full of happy couples, swaying in time to the jazzy melody of the music. 

I take another sip from the glass in my hand and pull a face. Looking up, I see someone – a man, dark-haired, about fifty but with an air of childishness about him – standing over the punch bowl, sniggering. I decide to put my glass down on the table.

I step out into the crowds, let myself get swept away. I have no idea where I'm headed, only that I want to let this moment – the music, the people, the feelings and celebration – fill me. I want to store it, file it away in the deepest corners of my mind, somewhere I can take it out and embrace it whenever I need to.

The war is over. The feeling of happiness swells up inside me as I realise this for what must be the hundredth time. No more fighting, no more desperate struggles to survive. I can still hardly believe it; it's so long since I've known anything but war and fighting and battles. The last I knew anything of peace, I was still just a child, unaccustomed to the hardships of war. How things have changed.

I pause in the middle of a crowd, letting the feelings wash over me again. I can feel the relief of the pilots, the happiness of families reunited, the love of couples together.

Something like all of this crashes over me suddenly, and I can't help but gasp. Such emotion; I don't think I've felt it before. I look up, wondering what's happening, and my senses are overwhelmed by a single, familiar, reassuring presence.

I see a flash of dark, silver-shot hair and green eyes before someone embraces me, squeezing air out of my lungs and sending shockwaves of happiness through me again.

"It's over," he murmurs into my hair, then pulls away and holds me by the shoulders, grinning like the rest of the room, sending another tingle of happiness through me. "Over!" he exclaims, louder this time, and I laugh.

"It is, it is, it's over," I manage through my cheerful laughter, surprised I can manage to say anything. They're the first words I've spoken all evening, as overwhelmed as I was with awe and disbelief at what they represent. The war really is over, I try and tell myself again. "Over," I repeat, still unable to say anything else.

The band starts up another song, something more melodic, slower but happier. I vaguely notice the mood of the dance floor shift and then he grabs my hand again. "Dance?" he asks, and it's all I can do to nod.

Within moments, I'm in the middle of the dance floor, marvelling at how comfortable and right it feels in his arms, though I've never been there before. I sigh and rest my head against his shoulder, still trying to soak in the feelings from the celebration, to store them up. Yet I find my mind straying and soaking in the feeling of his arms, his scent, the emotions I can feel from him through our bond.

I sense him smile against my hair, and I do the same against his shoulder. Really, this is so perfect that it's hard to believe we haven't done it before. But there's no time for questions or regrets, as the emotions of the crowd continue to soar through us both, drawing on our own contentment, making it impossible for anything negative to pierce the aura of happiness surrounding us.

Something stirs and rises as the music flows through us, and I feel his hand on my chin, in my hair, then his lips on mine – or mine on his. It's impossible to tell which, difficult to discern whose feelings are whose. But they're the same, and the elation soars through us both as the kiss is deepened. 

Something slams into us as we realise the same thing at the same time, and as the music fades between songs, he pulls away, his gaze burning into mine. Still the emotions of the crowd swirl through us, mingle with our own and blend until we can't tell the difference between ourselves and the crowd.

But we don't need to, as the same thought, the same feeling floods through us both. Rather than trivialise it by putting it into words, we close the gap between us once again for another long, slow, warm kiss.

It reinforces what we know, what we feel, what has been there for so long and denied until now. We embrace the feeling, the knowledge and revel in it. All that matters now is our love.


	2. Jag

After the first one, I found myself wondering how Jag felt

Since I'd misunderstood the ending of TUF… heh

So I wrote his POV of the celebrations

Enjoy…

I lean back against the table, and take a sip of the drink in my hand. Big mistake. Off to the left, I see someone – Wes Janson; how typical – sniggering over the punch bowl. I decide that the plant beside me will appreciate the concoction a lot more than I will.

Once I put the now-empty glass down, I let my gaze drift across to the dance floor. There are so many people here, so many friends and families celebrating. Celebrating peace, although they are all so unused to it, it's hard to imagine how they'll survive this any better than they have in the war.

No, it's not hard to imagine at all. They have each other; they have their friends and families to help them through everything; the battles for survival in war, the problems of peace. 

That's what connects everyone in this room, what stitches them all together irrevocably – we have all survived the past five years, and nothing can change that or destroy the link it brings us. These people, these men, women and children, are as much my family as my parents and sister back home. I have relied on them, they have relied on me, and we're bound together through it all.

Imagine! Bound to the rebels. Impossible, but it happened. And I wouldn't change it for the galaxy.

Out on the dance floor, I see two people, the two I know the best, the two who know me best. They're dancing, together, and the love between them makes me gasp. I smile, sadly, but not too much so. I should've known it would happen – in fact, I think I did. I find myself wondering why it didn't happen sooner, and realising the answer is myself.

I tear my gaze away from them and look round again, trying not to wonder whether I'm happy for them, or jealous. But before I can decide, someone else approaches me, leans against the table beside me. She glances up at me, green eyes smiling, and looks out at the dance floor as well.

"It's hard to believe, isn't it?"

I'm taken by surprise, and wonder what she's talking about. "Yes…"

"The war, I mean. Is it really over? I don't dare believe it."

"Oh." Of course, the war. What else could she have been talking about? "I know what you mean. It's hard to adjust to the feeling, after fighting so long. It'll take a while to get used to." There's a pause, and then-

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, and I look at her in surprise. She glances up, then nods towards the dance floor. 

I follow her gaze and see them again, locked in a kiss. Strangely, the pain I expect in my stomach doesn't appear, and all I feel is a slight wistfulness, a little happiness that they've found each other after so long. I don't have time to wonder why, as something rises up inside me and I straighten, turning to the blonde-haired girl – no, woman – beside me. "Dance?"

She laughs as the music changes to a fast-paced jazz number and I pull her onto the dance floor by her arm. We dance, keeping up with the beat, and I find myself wondering where I learnt to dance like this. Certainly not with the Chiss.

Our dance brings us crashing into other couples, but we don't care. Her happiness is contagious, and I find myself laughing right along with her, swinging her round in my arms, pulling and pushing through the crowds in time to the music. Her green eyes meet mine and we laugh again, the joy intoxicating.

As the song fades and band start another, slower number, we find ourselves next to the other couple. I smile at them, and they seem surprised, but a smile spreads on their own faces at the same time, and we all break out in joyous laughter again. There are no hard feelings between us as we return to the dancing, as I find myself with the most unlikely of dance partners for this slow song – and feeling that it's right.

And so I get lost in the exuberance of the moment, in the feelings of relief and joy at the war's end, in the surprise that a swirl of love can bring. Love is something you never expect until it happens, and when it does it feels so right you wonder why it never happened before.

I've had enough of wondering for tonight, though, and so I simply dance.


End file.
